Yesteryear, Beneath the Shade Tree
by PokeyDotes
Summary: Kensi confronts Deeks on the changes in their partnership since her return from Afghanistan, and she questions why they can't be like they were before.


**This story came about as a way for my mind to cope with everything Densi that has happened this past season. We've had super highs and devastating lows, and racoon comebacks aside, I wasn't satisfied with Deeks' reactions after Kensi's return from Afghanistan. This is just a way to get my mind to shutup about it all, and I apologize in advance for any and all sappiness, cheesiness, and all around cliche-ness.**

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He's pretty certain he didn't leave the TV on when he left, yet the sound of a smooth, muffled voice filters through his front door. Dropping his keys in his jacket pocket, Deeks reaches for his gun, his fingers gripping the handle as he casts a cautious gaze around his building's parking lot. And then he sees it, parked in its usual spot in all its silver glory.

He lets his hand fall and turns the doorknob, knowing she'd have left it unlocked for him. He pushes the door open and takes two steps in before amused confusion has him stopping in his tracks.

His eyes slowly travel from his partner sitting on his couch, to the TV, back to his partner. She's slumped down, a huge bag of potato chips resting in her lap, her socked feet propped on his coffee table. It looks as though she's been working her way through the bag for a while, several crumbs visible on the collar of her shirt, her fingers practically shining with grease.

He lets his eyes wander back to the TV and the workout tape that seems to have captured Kensi's attention.

"Uh, Kens," he begins, pointing to the woman making the transition from Downward Dog to Plank on the TV, "I think you're doing it wrong."

"Why do you have a yoga DVD?" she asks, ignoring his comment as she puts another handful of mostly crushed chips in her mouth. Monty, lying next to her hip, turns to look at Deeks, his ears perked as though he's waiting for an answer as well.

Deeks huffs out a laugh as he kicks the door shut, his hand shooting out to lock the deadbolt out of habit, muscle memory guiding his movements so he doesn't even have to look for the lock. "You know, I didn't give you that key so you could just break in whenever you felt like it."

"It's not breaking in," she quickly counters with a grin, "I have a key. And you're avoiding the question."

Deeks laughs again, a little embarrassment making its way into the sound. He tilts his head back, his eyes finding the ceiling as he inhales, his teeth working his lower lip as he prepares for the insult smackdown that only Kensi can provide.

"It's so I wouldn't look like a bumbling idiot when I went to the park." He says it on an exhale, the words coming fast and shamed. At the time, it had seemed like a decent idea—practice a little yoga, wow the ladies, call it a day. Now that he has to share the great idea, not so much.

Kensi arches a brow and grabs the remote, pausing the TV. "You're telling me you bought a DVD to practice yoga so you could impress women?"

"Pretty much," he confesses, his mind already running through possible insults she could toss his way, preparing for what he can toss back. But she catches him by surprise, gives a small, disbelieving laugh, and a shrug of her shoulders before resuming her conquest of the chips without saying a word.

Deeks frowns, his eyes narrowing as he looks at his partner. It's not the first time she's shown up unannounced, it's not even the first time she's made herself at home while he was out. But, for a reason he can't quite put his finger on, this time _feels _different.

He takes off his jacket and tosses it on the back of the couch. His hands find their way to his back pockets as he leans his shoulder against the wall. "So, do I get to play twenty questions, or do you feel like telling me what's bothering you without me having to ask?"

"Technically, I think that counts as asking." She swings her feet off the coffee table, crumpling the empty chip bag into a ball as she makes her way to the kitchen.

"Now who's avoiding the question?" He follows her, trying not to grin as she slides on her socks to the trash can. A padded thump accompanied by a rhythmic clicking announces Monty's journey from the couch to the kitchen. The muffled grumble followed by a nauseating smell tells Deeks that Kensi probably shared her chips with her fellow couch potato. Snack food has never really agreed with Monty's stomach.

Deeks makes a beeline to the fridge in search of food as Kensi leans against the counter, Monty making himself at home at her feet. Tossing his partner a quick, studying look before opening the fridge, Deeks can tell from her posture that she's having an internal debate. Were Deeks to bet money on it, he'd say she's trying to decide whether or not to say what's on her mind.

And he'd be right. As he eyes the one bottle of beer still left in his fridge, he hears a quiet, yet sharp inhale followed by an accusatory tone. "Is there any particular reason I have to break into your apartment if I want to see you?"

He closes the fridge and pulls open the freezer door, suddenly, for the first time in his memory, uncomfortable with her presence. He gives her a playful smile, trying to ease the nervous jumble in his gut. "We see each other all the time, and I thought we established you have a key."

"You know what I mean," she says sternly, a hint of hurtfulness making Deeks' smile fall. "We used to hang out entirely way too much, and now if we spend _any_ time together outside of work, it's because I've come to you. Why? What's changed?"

Deeks abandons his search for food. Slowly, he walks to where she is, his elbows coming to rest on the counter as he props himself up, preparing to confront the big ass elephant that's wiggled its way into their partnership. "We're just trying to figure out our new normal."

"Our new normal?" She quirks an eyebrow, looking a little confused and a lot doubtful all at the same time.

"Yeah, we can't exactly go back to our old normal. Not after everything we've done," he explains, swallowing once as he looks away, not wanting to see her initial reaction. "Not after everything that's happened to us," he adds after a moment, his eyes firmly planted on the countertop.

When Kensi doesn't say anything, Deeks tucks his lower lip between his teeth and looks up, determined not to be the one to break the silence. He had spent weeks coming to that conclusion all on his own. It's not necessarily one he's happy with, but it's what the facts and logic had left him. Now, he has to wait and see what his partner does with it.

He watches as Kensi tilts her head and lightly dances the fingers of her right hand across the counter, her nails tracing the decorative patterns in the linoleum. Long moments tick by, tense and loud without her saying a word.

Eventually, Deeks' resolve runs out, and he caves. "Kensi, you're not the same person you were a year ago. And I know for a fact I'm nowhere near the same man I was. We're both more…we've changed."

"Is that good? Bad?" she questions softly, a moment before her eyebrows draw together in anger as she thinks more on what he's said. "Because of everything that's happened, are we now a pair of paranoid pessimists who are too afraid of losing everything that we refuse to try anything?"

Deeks gives a small smile, hoping to dissuade her building ire. "I like to think of it as we're both more aware of what the world is capable of."

"That doesn't really answer anything."

"We're not paranoid pessimists," he says, his tone completely serious, his eyes finally meeting hers. "And I'm definitely not refusing to try anything."

"But you're afraid of losing it all."

"Yes," he says, surprising himself with the blunt honesty. "Terrified, actually. But not to the point that I refuse to give it a try."

Kensi looks up in frustration, her eyes focused on the ceiling. "Then what's with all the…" she trails off, her hand gesturing to something neither can see, but Deeks knows exactly what she's referring to.

"Kensi, I know what it's like to lose you," he says quietly, stopping to clear his suddenly tight throat. "When we were in Afghanistan, there was a moment…Hetty sent me a picture, and ...Kensi in that moment, you were dead. I _knew_ what it was like to lose you, and I couldn't take it. I flipped. I did…I did something I didn't even think I was capable of." He stops again, inhales a shaky breath and closes his eyes as he tries to rein in his emotions. A quick dart of his tongue across suddenly dry lips, and he forces himself to meet her eyes. "And seeing you again, alive and walking towards me, I realized that I _can't_ lose you. Even if it's just you walking away, Kensi, I don't think I could handle that again."

Kensi stands directly in front of him, her jaw clenched, her eyes bright and blinking rapidly, and Deeks can tell that she, too, is fighting the urge to cry. "So, what do you want to do?" she finally asks, her voice a tad bit shaky but determined.

"I want to move forward. Slowly," he stresses, unsure of why that's so important. "I want to get to learn the new you, let you learn the new me, and take our time. Not rush anything, not risk everything because we refuse to recognize any potential risks."

He pushes himself away from the counter, both hands coming to rest on the back of his neck as he mumbles embarrassedly, "I think we need to take time to adjust to the newness and…learn to be us again."

Kensi stares at him a moment, her eyes slightly red from the unshed tears. Finally, she gives a small nod and steps forward, catching Deeks off guard as she wraps her arms around his waist and leans her head against his chest in an unexpected but welcomed hug.

"But we're good?" she asks as Deeks returns the hug.

"Always have been," he promises with a crooked smile, his chin pressing against the crown of her head as he speaks.

She squeezes her arms, burying herself more into his embrace. "Then that's all I care about."

Deeks squeezes her back, a few stray hairs from her ponytail tickling his nose as he breathes. They stay like that, the moment slowly turning awkward, neither of them being used to this much closeness.

But then there's a knock at the door, and Deeks feels Kensi's mouth move against his t-shirt.

"I might have already ordered take-out."

He can only laugh as he feels her steal his wallet from his back pocket. Obviously, dinner is on him tonight. He turns to the fridge for the last of the beer as Kensi heads to the door to pay for the food.

Leaning against the counter, beer in hand and a gassy dog at his feet, Deeks decides that the day could have ended worse. Come tomorrow, they'll still be Kensi and Deeks, and that's all anybody cares about.

The End.


End file.
